The Stag & The Doe
by Nellark
Summary: She didn't hate him, she hated the idea of him. He didn't hate her, he pretended not to care. It's a funny story, but they'll never look back and laugh. My take on The Marauders Era and the whirlwind of frightening circumstances. Includes a dark wizard, a magic school, a werewolf, a bully and a foul wedding dress.
1. Prologue: Four Things

**A/N- Second ongoing Jily fic. This one's set in The Marauders Era and is my own take on how I imagine Lily and James' relationship progressed during that time. Standard-issue Jily fic, really.**

**WARNING: Will contain language and *ahem* adult-ish themes.**

**oOo**

She knew James was dead.

And she knew she would soon be joining him.

There was no time to cry, to scream, to mourn. Despite his silent, sinister grace, she could hear Voldemort making his way up the staircase. He was sweeping past hanging wedding photos, New Years' Eve party photos, silly photos and baby photos. He was walking past them up the stairs to kill her.

"Harry…" was what came out of her mouth sixty seconds before her death.

She backed away from the barricaded door and stared at her son, who was smiling in his crib. So innocent…

When she laid eyes on her little boy for the last time, four things flashed across her mind.

The first, Sirius Black. Dear, dear Padfoot. She pictured him taller, with a beard and grey-ing hair. His shirt sleeves were rolled up as he taught his Godson how to fly on a broomstick. They were in a small, messy, over-grown, run-down back garden of a poky little house. Sirius would've sold Grimmauld Place the moment he got the chance. He'd raise Harry to be grateful for the home they shared. He'd raise Harry to be kind, funny, perhaps a little cheeky, generous and brave. Maybe Sirius would marry a kind young lady, who'd love Harry almost as much. Maybe they'd have children to raise as Harry's siblings. Sirius would raise Harry to think of his parents fondly, but without grief.

The second, was James. Lily did not think of her husband's corpse that lay several feet away. Rather, she thought of his younger self. He stood in the snow in Hogsmeade, age 18, blowing out smoke and smiling at her. He was beautiful.

The third was Harry. He'd be surrounded by friends at Hogwarts. He'd play quidditch and join the Slug Club and get lots of detentions, just like Daddy. He'd marry a funny, feisty witch. That would suit him. He'd take her to his parents' grave and she'd put an arm round him and he'd kiss her on the cheek. He would not cry. His parents would never make him cry.

The fourth, oddly enough, was herself. In the thirty seconds she had left before her death, her life did in fact flash before her eyes. At least, bits of it. The best bits. Harry's entire life, of course, and her happy childhood memories. Her mind filled up with her twilight years at Hogwarts. She realised, as she watched them play behind her eyes, that she was perfectly happy to die here.

"I love you so, so much…" she whispered to her son. "Be brave, sweetheart. We'll see each other again."

The door burst open and she leapt to her feet, letting the last memories of her youth fade from her…

**oOo**

**A/N- No more life-ruining in the near future.**

**Please let me know what you think in the comments.**

**Chapter One will be posted soon.**

**Nel X**


	2. Every Cruel Moment

The weather was scorching. The parched evening sun permeated central London in a baked, dry yellow. It was the last day of August and Lily had spent it in the back of an unpleasant boy's car.

"Bloody sun. And bloody London roads. Of course there was always going to be traffic on the one day that I need to be on time!"

Vernon Dursley embodied everything Lily Evans was against: greed, bigotry and meanness. He had a bad word for everyone and he himself was perfect.

"Am I the only person who KNOWS HOW TO BLOODY DRIVE IN THIS CITY?!" he shouted out of the window at a stalled car in the middle of a grid.

"Verny, people are staring," said Petunia calmly, fanning herself with a road map. She gestured to a large cluster of Japanese tourists on the pavement, who all watched the utterly tedious build-up of melting cars, driven by frustrated commuters. Vernon grunted and slumped back in his seat. The car shook.

"Lily, how far away is this place?" asked Petunia, craning her neck in search of something.

"You won't see any of my classmates in their uniforms, Tuney, if that's what you're looking for," Lily smirked at her sister in the wing mirror. She, of course, new exactly what she was looking out for: abnormality.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"How far away is it?!"

"In this traffic, it's... probably about ten minutes."

Vernon groaned loudly.

"If it's too much trouble, I can get out here. I can walk."

Vernon opened his mouth to speak, but Petunia nudged him and pointed to the growing crowds on the pavements, all watching the traffic.

"Has there been an accident?" asked Lily.

"No idea," said Vernon gruffly. "There's no point in getting out now. I'll only have to turn round and I'm not making a bloody U-turn in this mess and I'll have to get out and lift the seat and... just stay put."

Lily smiled pleasantly and relaxed back into her seat. Even with all the windows down, it was boiling. She couldn't imagine what the heat was like without the shade of the car roof.

"I tell you something," began Vernon again. "it's a ridiculous idea, going to the pub the day before your school starts again. You know what'll happen."

"And what's that, Vernon?" asked Lily.

"You'll get pissed. You'll wake up with a stinking hangover and they'll kick you out when you get there tomorrow."

"I'll drink plenty of water, I promise."

"And who's buying you these drinks, eh? Reckon you'll get served around here? Not bloody likely..."

"Probably not," Lily sighed. It was no secret of Vernon's that he disliked Lily. He was prone to taking Petunia's side in any sort of debate, and Petunia was not Lily's biggest fan anymore.

As cars at the front of the queue started moving again, Vernon's car spluttered.

"What was that?" asked Lily.

"Hmm? Nothing. Don't know what you're talking about."

Something underneath Lily made an ominous gurgling sound.

"Vernon, it sounds like your car's constipated."

"Nonsense!" he barked. "This car's brand spanking new. Top of the range. Not like any of those vintage bangers. How do you get about, Lily?"

"Broomsticks," she smirked.

"Very funny, Lily..." groaned Petunia convincingly.

After half an hour of stopping and starting around a grumpy London one-way system, they pulled in to the narrow, shaded alley way in which they were to depart. The three of them clambered out of the tiny car and breathed deeply. Cooler air was restorative on days like this.

"Thank you for driving me, Vernon."

"We didn't offer," said Petunia quickly. "Mummy asked us to."

"Well, thanks anyway. Would you like some petrol money?"

Vernon grunted again, but accepted a ten pound note. As Lily hauled her trunk, bag and cat basket out of the car boot, Vernon and Petunia stared up at the blackened, boarded-up pub ominously.

"Looks a bit rough, doesn't it?" commented Vernon.

"Oh, it's deceptively run-down."

"Hmmm..."

Lily dumped her stuff outside the pub door. Knowing better than to open the doors in front of Vernon, she smiled at them with finality.

"I'll see you at Christmas, then," she said, looking pointedly at Petunia. Her sister looked away.

"I hope your business deal goes to plan, Vernon," said Lily, vaguely recalling an angry phone conversation Vernon had had with a client earlier in the week. Vernon grunted and waddled back to the car. Petunia moved to walk after him.

"Tuney?"

Petunia stopped and reluctantly turned around.

"I'll write to you," said Lily. Her sister looked affronted. She nodded, hesitated, then slid back into the car. Lily gave a defeated sigh as the tin car trundled back into the chaos.

"Alright, Lily? Good Summer?" The head barman and owner of The Leaky Cauldron, waved at Lily as she dragged her luggage in to the dark, dusty pub.

"As can be expected, Tom," she said, stifling a sigh of relief. It was much cooler in here.

"Butterbeer?" he smirked, ringing out the tea towel in a bucket on the floor. Lily abandoned her bags and scurried over to the bar.

"I'd love one," she murmured.

He barked a laugh.

"There ain't any need to talk quiet, Lily! This place is empty!"

"What, completely?!"

"Nah, nah... there's a few what are goin' off to Hogwarts tomorrow, but there's ain't any hangers-on like usual. Not many people what're in the mood for a drink anymore..." he leaned in, suddenly becoming solemn. "It's dark times, now, girl. Those what are hidin' in their homes have got the idea. It's safer there."

"What do you mean?"

"All them killings, Lily! All those Aurors and the like!"

"...what killings? Aurors? Tom, what's going on?"

Tom stopped and stared at her for a second, realising his error. He reached down under the counter. When he handed her the bottle of butterbeer, he handed over a newspaper. A picture of a flaming, collapsing house adorned the cover with the headline splashed above it.

MINISTRY INCOMPETENCE LEADS TO PUNNICK FAMILY'S DEATH

"The Ministry ain't caught no death eaters yet," murmured Tom. "And you-know-who's still after followers. That's the fifth family what's been killed this Summer."

"Fifth?!"

"Accidents, the Ministry says. Cover ups, I say. Ruddy cover-ups. It's conspiracy work what's doin' it..."

"Tom, what on earth..."

"You-Know-Who!" Tom spat, eyes wide, close to Lily's face. She wasn't sure whether to back away or get him a glass of water...

"You-Know-Bloody-Who. He's at it again, the bugger! Killin' all thems what ain't done nothin' wrong... you know who..."

"YES WE DO!" cried a voice from behind Lily.

She spun round and practically fell off her bar stool.

James Potter sauntered down the rickety wooden stairs, smirking like the proud git he was. "Padfoot, look! It's Evans, come to say hello!"

Lily kept her narrowed eyes on him as she reached over to grab her butterbeer. Unfortunately, the condensation on the cool glass made her lose her grip. The bottle dropped against the counter and toppled over, pouring orange liquid all over the counter.

James and Sirius sniggered. She lept from her bar stool.

"I'm so sorry, Tom! I... I wasn't looking, I..."

"S'alright," smirked Tom in a disturbingly knowing way. "We've all been there..."

"Don't worry about it, Evans," said James, pulling something out of his back pocket. It was his brown leather wallet. "I'll buy you another one."

"No _thank you,_" retorted Lily. "I have my own money."

"I don't doubt that!" replied James, raising his hands in defence.

James' right hand man, Sirius Black, bounded down the stairs to join him. His hazel-coloured ringlets bounced as he went. As soon as he was behind James, he whispered something in his ear. James smirked and elbowed his friend in the ribs.

"Another then, Lily?" asked Tom, his gruff pub voice returning to normal.

Lily cleared her throat. "No, I think I'll just take my stuff up to my room. Which will it be?"

"Second. Next to these boys, 'ere."

Lily groaned loudly. "_Why?_ I thought you said there wasn't anyone here!"

"I said there was a few. I'm keeping the room close together. Saves Loris 'aving to lug the bucket and mop around up and down all them stairs."

Lily rolled her eyes as Tom turned round and unhooked Lily's room key from the cork board.

"'Ere you go, Lils. 'Ave a good one!"

"You too..." she mumbled.

She walked back over to the door, where she'd left her suitcase and bag.

"Oi, you two!" Tom called to the boys. They'd begun their re-ascent up the stairs. They slowly turned round.

"Are you gunna help Lily wiv 'er bags or what?"

Sirius groaned. James merely smirked. _Again. _"Certainly!"

"No, it's fine!" said Lily quickly. "I can manage."

"Rubbish!" retorted Tom. "I mean, well I don't doubt that you can manage, but... what's a bit of male chivalry these days, eh?"

Tom winked cheekily again as James jogged in between the tables towards her. Lily backed away from him.

"I don't bite, Evans," said James, sounding bored as he picked up her suitcase with arrogant ease. "Really, you act as though I'm some kind of werewolf."

"_Prongs," _said Sirius warningly from the stairs. James looked up at him.

"Move your arse, Padfoot, and get the other bag!"

"I told you, I'm fine..." mumbled Lily, picking her satchel up by herself. It was hardly a behemoth weight. It contained her inks and quill, her wand, a couple of books and a packet of muggle Fruit Pastels. Nothing would cause her more embarrassment than to get a boy to carry so little for her.

"I don't mind, Lily. Really."

"Sirius, I insist. Why don't you help your friend with my suitcase? He appears to be struggling..."

James wheezed a laugh as he heaved the large trunk onto his shoulder and clambered up the stairs.

"Don't do your back in!" called Tom as James turned the corner to the next flight of stairs. Lily hurried after him, not enjoying the idea of having James Potter lingering in her Inn room any longer than necessary.

Sirius and Lily, despite their differing views towards the dark-haired boy, were briefly united in their taunting of him. Sirius made a big fuss of squeezing past him on the stairs, almost causing him to stagger backwards with the trunk on his head. Lily had giggled at that. _She _had teased him with her indecision as to where he should place the trunk when they were in the room.

Her room was as dingy and damp as all the other rooms at The Leaky Cauldron, but never the less she was satisfied. She had a big bed and lots of space. Her grimy window overlooked a muggle market outside Victoria Station, where people bustled for purchases.

"Where d'you want it?" asked James in a strained voice, his legs shaking under the weight of it. From behind him, Sirius winked at her.

She grinned. "Ummm... on my bed.

James grinned at the suggestion. She ignored him. He walked over to the bed.

"NO WAIT!" she shouted.

James stopped mid-stride.

"Erm... put it on the floor."

James began to dip his shoulder.

"NO WAIT!"

"Bloody hell, Evans!"

"On the table!"

"Finally..."

"NO WAIT!"

"UGH!" he slid the trunk off his shoulder and dumped it onto the table. "_You _deal with it. It's too bloody heavy."

"You insisted on being all gallant!"

"Yeah well I didn't think you'd be such a girl about where your stuff went!"

"Oh get over it, Potter. It's just a trunk. You were just helping out."

"Do I get a thank you?"

"_Thanks. So much."_ she said dryly.

James rolled his eyes. "I was only being nice!"

"You were showing off."

"Hardly!"

"You _always _do."

Sirius cleared his throat. "Er, Prongs? We should leave Evans to sort her stuff out."

"Don't worry," Lily muttered. "I have somewhere to be, anyway."

James raised an eyebrow. "Hot date?"

"If you call picking one's cat up from the sanctuary, then yes. I have a hot date."

James sniggered. "See you later, Evans."

Lily scowled as Sirius pushed James through the door. He shot one apologetic look to Lily before shutting the door.

Lily collapsed against the window. Below her, mere feet away, muggles were shopping for groceries, London souvenirs and odd little trinkets. They had no idea that nearby, there was a magical world preparing itself for another year of Hogwarts tribulations and, according to a highly intoxicated bartender, a dark arts war.

She walked quietly out of her room, across the corridor, down the stairs, through the pub floor and out into Diagon Alley, relieved that the two boys had not followed her. After every arrogant thing they'd said and done last year; every stupid prank and joke; every cruel moment in her company which destroyed one of the closest friendships that had ever been... she had a reason to hate them.

Diagon Alley was permeated with the golden yellow of sunset. Summer was concluding. Tomorrow, a new year at Howarts would begin.

oOo

_A/N: Review and stuff. _

_Please see my profile page for my tumblr and twitter links. Follow for follow, obviously. _

_Nel X_


	3. Impossible to Believe

Her short stay at The Leaky Cauldron reflected what it might feel like to serve time in a prison cell.

Anticipating that there would be great hoards of students in every shop of Diagon Alley, Lily had allowed for some time to kill in queues. She hadn't foreseen that Diagon Alley would be as empty as the Inn.

Pleased as she was to have her calico cat, Tuppy, slinking around her ankles once again, she felt lonelier than ever. James Potter and Sirius black running around like children in the hallway and hexing each other with snapping and exploding spells made Lily feel barricaded into her own room, which was dingy and cold. Her bed was big but ominously damp. The walls of the room were a hideous floral pattern of vibrant vomit yellow, which made her dizzy. The cracks in the window pane let in an oddly chilly evening breeze as well as the noise of the muggle market below. Lily was certainly trapped in a liminal, and it seemed to her to be almost torturous.

Darkness was gradually filling the room like leaking gas. Lily sat cross-legged on her bed, staring at the new pile of books that sat gloriously on the bedside table.

There was nothing like a new book. As a muggle-born, learning more about old wizards and spells and traditions and monsters was...

_"Magic,"_ she thought to herself, with a small smile. It irritated her when her peers from magical families teased her for her fascination with what was to be learned in a wizarding school. Unfortunately for her, there was no accurate analogy she could use. Nobody found muggles fascinating, because compared to _Mighty Magic, _muggles were mundane and boring.

One such philosopher was James Potter.

His popularity among girls was something that infuriated Lily. If all those girls who swooned when he walked past had any shred of moral fibre, they'd have learnt to hate James Potter. His incessant tormenting of Severus Snape was despicable and painful to live with. There were not many things in the world that Lily Evans did not understand, but something that she would never comprehend was the fun and sport in hurting others.

She heard one of the boys, possibly Sirius, bark a laugh. It made Lily's blood boil.

It was a wonder how Potter had any friends at all. Remus Lupin was a decent boy. A troublemaker, yes, just like his friends. But he wasn't unkind. It was for boys like Remus that Lily made allowances for trouble-making by giving it the subtitle of "zest for life". Peter Pettigrew was the opposite. He was meek and wary of punishment, so cowered away from adventure. This did not stop his cruelty.

_Adventure. _Where had that word come from? What adventure was there to be had in pulling childish pranks and spending hours in detention for it? Where was the logic?

There was a knock at her door.

"Evans?" called one of the boys.

Tuppy scrambled to her feet and leapt from the bed, landing with a light thud on the dusty wooden floor.

"Yes?" called Lily.

"You hungry?" It was Potter.

Lily's stomach growled embarrassingly loudly. "What's it to you?" she scowled, rather unkindly.

She heard him sigh through the thin door. He'd definitely heard her stomach. She blushed.

"Tom's made some stew for us lot. You coming down?"

Lily Evans had never had the misfortune to meet James Potter outside of school before. Something unnerving in his tone gave her the impression that this version of the arrogant toad was not far off from the one she knew.

Tuppy was at the door now, sniffing at the vaporous smells of stewing chicken and vegetables that even Lily could smell. It made her mouth water.

"Look," continued Potter when Lily didn't respond immediately. "If you're not coming down, we'll bring some up to you and we won't leave until you take it. So decide."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'm coming!"

She slid off the bed and smoothed down her dress. She saw no point in drawing more attention to her thorough disliking of James Potter than was necessary. Her aim this year was to rid herself of him entirely. She would not scowl at him in the corridors. She would not cringe at the sound of his laugh. She would not change direction if she saw him approaching. She would be an adult: curt and minimal. She'd be civil when she had to be. Otherwise, she'd ignore him.

oOo

Downstairs, a handful of people had arrived. Tom was busy greeting a small first year and his parents while Sirius was sat at the longest wooden table, dishing out steaming stew onto battered tin plates. He grinned up at James and Lily.

"You must be hungry," said Sirius to Lily, gesturing to the plate opposite him as he sat down.

"STOP FLIRTING WITH HER!" James bellowed. Lily stared at him blankly, before both boys cackled at her facial expression.

She rolled her eyes.

Their hilarious little in-joke was derived from an incident last year, in which James had jovially asked Lily out during another one of her storm-clouds of fury against him. In a chivalry spasm, Severus had leapt in front of him and shouted the words "stop flirting with her". It had been the brunt of all the 'Marauders'' jokes ever since.

"Will you two ever let that go?" she questioned, sitting down. "It was ages ago."

"Absolutely not, Evans. Sorry," Potter shrugged and sat down at the head of the table, with Sirius and Lily either side of him.

The three began eating in a tense silence, with Lily sneaking glances at the suspiciously quiet boys that she was sitting with.

_This is madness, _she thought to herself. _Lily, you're sitting with Potter and Black. Why?_

She was eating mechanically, too on-edge to eat properly.

The analogy of two lions eating grass beside an antelope sprung into her mind as she watched them wolf down their food, but she internally kicked herself. Cruel and tasteless as they behaved sometimes, they could not hurt her, even if they wanted to.

"So, Evans," began Potter, dropping his fork into his now empty plate with a loud clatter. "Which subjects are you taking this year?"

Lily eyed him sceptically before answering. "Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, and History of Magic," she looked down at her plate, which she noticed was almost as full as it had been when she'd first sat down. She was suddenly rather hungry. "What about you?"

Potter grinned. "I'll be in your Transfiguration class, it seems. Sirius and I are taking Care of Magical Creatures. We thought we'd take one for the team."

Sirius coughed a little.

Potter shot him a funny look, then turned back to Lily, his light blue eyes clouded with mischief. "Remus is a Magical Creatures fanatic. There wasn't anyone he knew taking the subject. We were never fans, but it's important to him, see..."

"Prongs..." muttered Black.

Potter smirked. "He's going through a lot. You know what teenage boys are like. They go through changes."

"_Prongs..."_

This conversation was starting to make Lily uneasy.

"He really needs a friend,"

"Prongs, _shut it," _snapped Sirius.

Lily glanced at Sirius, who looked as solemn as he had for a brief moment earlier. Potter chuckled at him.

"Potter, what are you playing at?" she asked suddenly.

He suddenly looked too offended to make it convincing. "Nothing!"

Lily stood up. "Nothing, indeed..."

"What's up with you, Evans?" he asked, startled as she threw her napkin down onto the table.

"_Nothing._ I'm just not hungry."

"Evans, sit down."

"No."

She marched across the pub floor and up the stairs, her new shoes making loud clunky noises on the hollow woodworm-eaten wood as she stomped. It detracted from the pathetic attempt at feigned rage that she was trying to convey. This made her face red.

Soon, she could hear more urgent footsteps coming up the stairs behind her. She hurried up the last few steps and rounded the corner into her room.

"Evans!" called Potter.

She grabbed the door and flung it to close. It bounced off Potter's foot, which he'd thrust out at the last minute.

Potter nudged her door open with his foot and strode in to the room. He shut the door firmly behind him and then turned to face her squarely.

She stared at him in shock. "Get out of my room!" she exclaimed.

"Not until you tell me why you're being so... odd."

Lily scoffed. "Me? Odd? You can talk. What the hell was all that drivel about Remus needing a friend?"

Potter had the nerve to smirk again and shrug. "I said what I meant. He's maturing into the man he is to become."

Lily wrinkled her nose. "Something tells me that I don't want to know what you mean by that."

"You don't. That's why I didn't tell you."

"Even so, if Remus Lupin is your friend then you shouldn't be divulging his personal problems to complete strangers!"

"You're not a complete stranger, Evans, we've known each other since-"

"Oh, spare me the nostalgia," she growled, suddenly getting rather irritated again. "I am still none-the-wiser about Remus'... _problems. _But I don't want to know anything more about them. Remus is entitled to his own private life and you should've respected that before you started... started to..."

Potter raised his eyebrows. "Before I started to what? Infer things?"

"_Yes_!" snapped Lily. "You were inferring that he was having a difficult time."

Potter chuckled. "It's not what you think, Evans."

Lily grinded her teeth together. "I don't care. It wasn't nice of you. I've a good mind to tell Remus when I next see him that you cannot be trusted."

"Oh come on, Evans, I didn't say anything! I was just trying to make conversation because for once in your life, you decided to acknowledge your inferiors!"

"_Excuse_ me?!"

"You heard me! For years now, you've been sneering at me and my friends for getting lower grades than you, for having more fun than you, for not caring as much as you. And now that you're all alone with us, you had no choice but to-"

"SHUT UP!"

Potter stared at her, blinking rapidly. Her voice echoed around the room and, probably, around the rest of the Inn.

She strode right up to him, as close as she dared to before he'd make a crude comment. "You think I look down on you? Not at all. I don't look down on anyone. If anything, I look through you."

Potter suddenly laughed darkly. "_Through _me? What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

Lily narrowed her eyes. "It means that you're transparent. I know that the only reason you picked on Severus was because it got you noticed."

Potter's jaw dropped before his mouth curled up into a stunned smile. "Hang on... you're trying to tell me that the only reason you treat me like dirt is because I teased Snape? That's just... wow."

She continued. "You saw that some people didn't particularly like him and you homed in on that like a savage beast on its prey."

"Really, Evans, you've out-done yourself. This is fantastic, I must write this down..."

"Are you listening to me, Potter?!"

Before he answered, they were interrupted by the muted sound of the screech of an owl. Lily turned round. Sitting on the ledge of the grimy window was a barn own, a small beige envelope clipped into its tiny beak. It shook its wings patiently.

"You can't expect me to believe that you hate me because of my lack of moral fibre. You might be all innocent and cute, but you're not a saint."

"Don't make assumptions about me, Potter. How would you know how innocent I am?"

She regretted the words as soon as his eyebrow jerked upwards.

"Just get out," she scowled, turning away from him and reaching the window.

She didn't hear him move. She twisted the rusty latch of the window and took care not to knock the bird off. It hopped in to the small gap and slotted the letter into Lily's waiting hand.

"People aren't books, Evans," he said eventually, his tone much quieter and calmer, but all the more sombre, as though grieving. "You can't just read people and then expect to understand. You think you've got us all sussed out, like we were logical problems to solve. People aren't like that."

She could've argued with him all day. Was it really that hard to believe that a person could be disliked for being a bully? How could be possibly find it that easy to admit to teasing Severus? At the thought of his name, Lily glanced down at the small envelope in her hand. Her name written on the front was scratchy and rushed. She shouldn't have been disappointed that he had not written to her.

"Sirius is probably wondering where you are," she said numbly.

"I'm sure he knows. It's hard to have a secret conversation in this place."

"This has not been a conversation."

"Sounded like one to me."

"It was an argument."

Potter dawdled, still not showing any signs of leaving. Lily toyed with the wax seal of her letter, attempting to give the hint that she was busy now.

"I guess I won, then," he said at long last.

She looked up from her letter. "Sorry?"

Potter bit the inside of his cheek. "Doesn't matter. Wouldn't want to antagonise you any further."

He slowly spun on his heel and walked out, quietly opening the door and shutting it carefully behind him.

An unwelcome feeling churned in the pit of her stomach. Her plan, or at least her objectives for this year, would not be made easy if he was still prancing around the castle with his friends. In a way, Lily was glad that Remus would be joining them soon. He was usually the one to keep the group grounded. If he was struggling with something now, he would probably want his friends to grow up.

She ripped open her letter and pulled out the paper.

_Dear Lily,_

_ Hope you're well. Sorry I haven't written much this Summer. As you know, I've been in the Nevada Desert with Dad and owls are rather hard to come by over there. Hopefully when this reaches you, you'll be at the Leaky Cauldron. I won't see you until September. It's mayhem over here, what with little Marcus starting this year. Mum's going all-wands blazing into Diagon Alley just before the train leaves for discount first year stuff. Poor Marcus, eh?_

_ Anyhow, here's some gossip that I've heard in the middle of a sodding desert that I can guarantee will not have reached you in the trecherous corners of the muggle world: Emmeline's father apparently left home without saying goodbye, so we should probably avoid any Daddy talk. Also, Dorcas Meadowes was in the Himalayas with her parents a few weeks ago and she saw Slughorn there! She reckons his wife is half-hag, which doesn't surprise me. Then again, Dorcas is as blind a bat. Apparenly Longbottom was at one of her Mum's shindigs and he's really fit all of a sudden. We'll have to see it to believe it! Although, Dorcas has got some snazzy specs now, so I hear! _

_ Here's where I really piss on your fire: James Potter's head boy. Fuckity-Wow. _

_ A toast to old Dumbles' crippling standards of hard work and human value!_

_ See you at school,_

_ Marlene._

_P.S: Mum says congrats. _

Lily folded the letter over numbly in her hands and stared at the candle holster by the door, which had flickered into light of its own accord.

_James Potter's head boy. _

_ Congrats. _

_oOo_

_A/N: 'Ello chums. _

_Please review etc etc. Also, follow the link on my profile page to my Tumblr for updates and shiznizz. _

_Nelly Bean X_


	4. Out of the Frying Pan

The first morning of September did not keep it a secret that Summer was over. Yesterday's glorious sunshine was replaced by a biting chill and a cold white sky. Even the old, warm red bricks of Kings' Cross Station appeared dull and dormant. The sudden collapse of Summer's heat made nearly everyone miserable...

_Nearly_ everyone.

"I love this place," sighed Sirius, who was striding across the main bridge of the station with James Potter at his side, both of them pushing trolleys stacked with trunks and bird cages. "I mean, I _love_ it. I love everything about it..."

James rolled his eyes and smirked, saying nothing.

"The noise, the steam, the suits, the _muggles..._oh, the muggles! YOU'RE ALL SO ADORABLY OBLIVIOUS!"

Glum commuters gave Sirius confused looks as they walked past.

"Keep it down, Padfoot. You don't want anyone to think you're an activist."

"I don't care! This place, Prongs... it's so... MAGICAL!"

James launched himself at his best friend, clamping his hand onto his blabbering mouth. The two stumbled together, wrestling each other until they bumped into a prudish-looking muggle woman in a power suit.

"Sorry, sorry!" gushed James, half chuckling. The woman clenched her jaw and hurried away.

"That was your fault," said Sirius as he wrenched James' hand away from his face.

"No, I'm pretty certain it was yours."

"How so, my antlered friend?"

James regained his hold on his luggage trolley and resumed pushing it along.

"Aside from almost revealing the centuries-old secret that the Ministry have battled to keep from muggles since their inception? Nothing. Except for the fact that your attempts at sounding all poetic and romantic actually made you sound gay."

Sirius punched his friend on the arm.

"You're a git, Prongs."

"A git who's extremely thirsty. Reckon they'll have anything besides fucking pumpkin juice on the train?"

"We've got an hour to kill. Might as well finish the holidays in the shittest café ever founded..."

oOo

It was the understatement of the decade.

Wedged under the steel staircase to the staff boxes was a tiny booth of a café, slowly decomposing into a clay-coloured hovel, furnished with wobbly metal chairs and tables covered in sticky plastic sheeting. At the front of the café was a till, some disintegrating slices of sponge-cake caged in a glass container and a cheap industrial espresso machine, all manned by a plump blonde lady who'd been there since their second year and had never recognised them once.

The two boys entered the café and were greeted with the familiar sensation of having their shoes stick to the floor. They parked their conspicuous trolleys at the back of the room.

"Still think this place is magical?" murmured James to Sirius, who elbowed him in the ribs as the waitress awoke from her comatose state of 'standing around all day'

"Wodja want?" she asked with a sigh, gesturing to the espresso machine.

James surveyed the facilities that lay before her. "I guess it'll have to be two espressos..."

"No way, mate. I'm not sitting in a fucking train carriage with you for hours on end after an espresso. We'll have two cokes, please."

The woman rolled her eyes and sighed again. She rotated slowly on the spot and disappeared behind a curtain of stringed beads. They stood in silence as the sounds of clanging and rattling sounded from the miniscule kitchen behind her. She emerged a minute later with two cans of coke.

"That's a fiver, please."

Sirius's eyes popped. "Excuse me?"

"A fiver."

"Five pounds for two cans of coke?! That's barmy!"

"_Fiver._"

James and Sirius stood awkwardly on the sticky floor, before Sirius sighed loudly and pulled out a scrunched up ten pound note. The linoleum floor peeled as Sirius stepped forward and slammed the note on the counter. He snatched the coke cans from where she'd placed them.

"Keep the sodding change. I won't be needing it anymore."

James might've scolded him, but the woman looked too tired and, frankly, too dense to do a double take against what Sirius had just said.

The two boys slid into two metal chairs on a small table by the least filthy window, overlooking two muggle platforms. There was a shiny modern train sitting stationery on the track, with stiff commuters squeezing themselves in to the already packed carriages.

"This is the last time that September will mean anything to us," said Sirius, staring out at the station through the frosty grime on the window.

"You say that now, but before we know it, we'll be back here with our kids," James pulled the ring of his coke can back and his drink cracked open. He sucked the foamy spray off of his fingers.

"That's years away."

"Indeed," James sighed. "But I'm telling you now, I'm not bringing any bloody child of mine to this shit-hole we're sitting in. It smells of rotting house plants."

Sirius snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, Prongs. The only organic organism in this café is the mould."

James laughed loudly, eliciting a suspicious glare from the waitress.

"I bet she's invited to all the parties..." muttered Sirius, opening his can. James chuckled again.

"Yeah. Having it off with all the train drivers, mopping up the vomit of the conductors and sneaking extra booze in for the caretakers."

Sirius' face was red from containing a laugh. "I wonder how many blokes have played the _train entering a station_ innuendo on her."

"By the looks of her, Padfoot, not very many."

Sirius cackled into his coke, causing foam to spray from his nose. Before long, the two boys were howling with laughter at crude jokes and stupid faces. When they calmed down, James could feel the onset of a sugar rush making his mouth and brain fizzle with energy. He smiled satisfactorily.

"How much time have we got?" asked James.

Sirius shrugged, then with a mischievious grin he turned round to face the waitress. "Oi, my fair lady! What's the time, babe?"

James sank in his chair to hide his hideous laughter. When he heard the woman grunt a response, he was forced to disguise his laughter in a coughing fit. He came up bright red, and Sirius grinned at him.

"We've got fifty minutes."

James nodded. "Cool. Where d'you reckon Wormtail is?"

Sirius took a swig of coke. "Either he's desperately searching for you on the platform or he's still in bed. Place your bets."

James chuckled. "Be fair, mate, he lost his old man last month."

Sirius' smile faltered. "Yeah... that's shit."

"Yup."

James felt his friend's eyes on him like a concerned teacher. He concentrated on his can of coke as he raised it to his face and took a gulp, letting the muggle soft drink fill his mouth with bubbles of its unique flavour.

"Are _you _ok?" asked Sirius eventually.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, m'fine."

"...sure?"

"Yeah, mate. You know how it is."

Sirius nodded solemnly. "Did your dad mind? You know, that I stayed at yours after..."

"What are you on about, Padfoot? You're always welcome up at mine, mate. Sometimes I think you're more welcome than me!"

Sirius smirked. "That's because your Dad and I have banter, whereas you spent most of the Summer sulking in your room."

"Yeah, well, I'm a traumatised youth now! I'm allowed to detach myself from society!

"And you accuse _me _of sounding gay..."

"You're a fucker."

"Unfortunately not, in my case..." Sirius grinned.

James rolled his eyes. "Come along, Fido. Off we trot to school!"

Their chairs scraped the floor painfully as they stood up and squelched across the room to collect their trolleys.

"Thank you very much for your kind hospitality!" said Sirius to the weary waitress before barging through the door of the café with his trolley.

oOo

Platform 9 3/4 was as busy as ever, but somehow seemed ten times as compact. No sooner had the boys been relieved of their luggage, they were thrust against the back wall of the platform by pushy mothers and were trapped there for a good ten minutes.

"This is fun," wheezed Sirius as a woman reversed her abnormally large backside into Sirius' pelvis. James wiggled his eyebrows at him.

"Yeah, looks it."

"Fuck off."

"Hello, James..." said a voice like velvet. Or honey. Or a veela. Neither boy could decide which was more appropriate.

James turned round. Alana Peck was sauntering past him, smiling at him with hooded eyes, the crowds parting for her like the red sea. The most striking thing about Alana Peck, apart from her alarmingly voluptuous chest size, was her abhuman mass of caramel-coloured hair. It was gloriously shiny and wavy, and hung to her waist like a protective force field: resilient as armour; sleek as silk.

"Fucking hell..." James breathed, peeling himself off the wall and smoothing his hair down quickly.

"She's gone, mate. She's walked off. Calm down."

"She said hello to me!"

"Yeah and now she's not here. So leave your bloody hair alone."

"Does it look alright?" asked James, turning to show his friend.

"It looks fabulous, dear, now get on the bloody train."

James rolled his eyes at his friend, then, as politely as he could, elbowed his way through the hoards of first year parents to the nearest door to a carriage with Sirius hot on his heels.

The train was almost as noisy and cramped as the platform. First years were battling to fit into compartments with all of their friends while seventh years swatted them out of the way to get past. There was already a small drama brewing in between some new students over who would have to find another compartment.

"OI! FIRST YEAR SCUM!" yelled James to the carriage. Everybody froze and stared at him. "MOVE OUT OF THE WAY OR WE'LL TURN YOU ALL INTO TOADS!"

The gaggle of first years squealed and hurried into random compartments, slamming the doors shut and yanking the blinds down. James and Sirius laughed to themselves as they effortlessly strode down the corridor. At the very end of the carriage, they found just what they were looking for.

James slid open the compartment door.

"Look what we have here!" beamed James. "The Marauders: back together again!"

Peter grinned cheerfully and held his hand up to high-five with Sirius. Remus smiled weakly at his friends before turning back to the window, looking solemn.

"Oi, Remus..." said James, his tone suddenly low and unoffending. "You alright, mate?"

Remus smiled at his friend again. "I'm just tired, James."

James glanced at Sirius, who looked outwardly as concerned for Remus as James felt within himself. They both sat down and acknowledged the awkward atmosphere.

"Merlin, Peter..." gasped Sirius. "How did you manage to sit with Moony for this long without wanting to kill yourself?"

James tensed. To his relief, Remus merely chuckled. "I'm sorry; new school year. First day nerves and all that."

"Eh, don't be nervous," James shrugged. "What've you got to be nervous for?"

Remus looked at him pointedly.

"Well... you know... it can't be helped," James shrugged.

"You're so helpful, Prongs. You're a real chum."

"I try, Padfoot, I try."

Peter suddenly cleared his throat. "You know what we're willing to do to help you, Remus. We spent a whole Summer learning how to do it."

"Peter's right, Remus," said James. "And we're not letting all that practicing go to waste!"

Remus turned to face him, suddenly looking very serious. "I feel like a bloody time bomb, James. It's all well and good rampaging through forests one night a month in the holidays but if Dumbledore knew what he was letting in to a school full of children..."

"I'm not sure Dumbledore would give a shit," said James bluntly.

His friends stared at him.

"What?" James asked in defence. "He probably doesn't. He's like that."

Sirius nodded. "James has a point, Remus. You might think you're a monster, but Dumbledore wouldn't. And neither do we."

From his moping position of having his chin on his hand, his elbow on his knee, he looked round at his friends' supportive smiled and grinned back at them.

As though on cue, the train whistle sounded and the sound of teary mothers bubbled outside their window.

The train shunted forward. Somewhere further down the carriage, a compartment of first years cheered.

Remus inhaled deeply and wiped his hands on his trousers.

"Oi, mate, calm down," scolded Sirius. "There are more pressing matters in hand this year than your tedious lycanthropy."

Remus remained nervous, but smirked in amusement. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

Sirius smiled widely. "James reckons he pulled a girl."

James kicked Sirius in the ankle.

Remus raised his eyebrows. "You've got your eyes on someone else, now? Who?"

"Alana Peck," Sirius grinned, receiving another kick in the ankle from James.

Peter's jaw dropped. "Alana Peck? What... what happened?"

James sat up, feeling curiously smug. "She said hello to me."

Peter's shoulders sagged. "Oh."

"Wow. Do I hear wedding bells?" Remus deadpanned.

"But she said it _in that way,_" explained James as though it was obvious.

Peter looked bewildered. "In what way?"

James rolled his eyes. "In smoke signals. What way do you bloody think she said it, Wormtail?"

Peter's mouth formed an 'O' as it clicked in his brain. "Ohhh... in the mating-ritual way, right?"

"Exactly," James grinned, practically bouncing.

Sirius scoffed. "Don't get your hopes up, mate. Alana's strictly VIP only."

"Shut up, Padfoot. That's my future wife you're talking about."

Peter giggled. "What? Divorcing Miss Evans already, are we?"

Remus barked a laugh. "Don't tell me you've given up on the deity that is Miss Lily Evans!"

James' jovial smile faded slightly. "Not entirely."

"So..." Remus continued. "What's happening with that?"

"Oh, Evans and I are still very much in love," said James with stony irony. "But Alana is the maid that I'm having an affair with."

Remus rolled his eyes. "You're despicable, and a bad influence on young Peter here."

"Yeah. Peter, don't listen to this brute," said Sirius. "He's a rotten egg and he'll corrupt you."

Peter laughed meekly. "He's not allowed to corrupt anyone anymore. He's head boy, the smarmy git."

A golden glow of confidence and impending ecstasy filled James up as he sat back and rested his arms on the back of the seat.

"Head Boy..." he repeated. "_Head Boy._ Big Cheese. Top Dog. We're going to have a wicked last year, boys. I've been granted this opportunity by omniscient forces. I intend to thank them by taking full advantage of this gift."

oOo

It was pitch black outside when they reached the platform at Hogsmeade. Lily hopped down from the train and immediately hugged her robes tighter around her. The Highlands had missed her. Hagrid loomed into view, swinging a fog lamp from his pudgy hand. First years shivered and bustled in and around each other like a startled herd of sheep. Sallow-skinned porters dumped luggage on the concrete like robots. Girls squealed and hugged each other. Boys cheered and leapt on each other, slapped, punched, high-fived.

Lily hooked her satchel over her shoulder and hurried to keep up with the timid and skittish Alice Prewett, whom she'd spent a tiresome but pleasant train journey with. The two girls had kept themselves occupied with books and magazines in an attempt to convey to Didalus Diggle that they did not want to hear about the twenty six species of soap-scum mites that his father was growing in Petri dishes in his greenhouse. Somehow, the vulnerable and sensitive appeal that Didalus had with girls did not reach Lily or Alice.

"I'm glad that's over..." Alice whispered to Lily as they trudged down the dark, narrow, muddy path to the carriages. "I'm not sure how much more of that I could've taken."

"He's an amusing character, isn't he?"

"No."

"...okay."

Towards the end of the narrow path, the hedgerow seemed to have grown faster over the Summer. Alice's attempts to hold back the overgrown branches for Lily were kind but unwelcomed, as Lily received a branch-whip to the face every time Alice bent one out of the way.

"So sorry!" Alice whimpered when she realised what she was doing.

"It's fine!" Lily insisted, glad of the fact that the darkness could hide her hand as she felt her face for scratches. "Really, I'm fine."

"Lily!" called a familiar voice when they reached the carriages. "LILY EVANS!"

Marlene McKinnon was a lightening bolt as she knocked down several second years to reach her best friend, whom she greeted with a violent embrace which nearly knocked Lily over. Even Alice stumbled to the side when Marlene arrived.

"Hello, My Best Friend And Head Girl Lily Evans. How're you?"

"Hello, average-cabbage Marlene McKinnon. I'm very well. I've just been bored to tears by Diggle and his enthralling tales of his father's magically-adjusted micro-organism farm. It's a gripper, Marlene, you should seek him out and ask him all about it."

"Nah, I'd rather swallow my own thumbs. But thanks. Say, have you seen Dorcas anywhere?"

"Mmm no. Can't say I've seen many people recently. It's because we're shrouded in darkness, you see. Why?"

"She's got glasses now. I want to see them."

Lily chuckled and traipsed through another mud puddle as she advanced on one of the shiny black carriages. "Anyone would think you have a crush on her."

"Shut up," said Marlene. "You _know _how long I've been saying that Dorcas would suit glasses. Now, my moment has arrived. I won't have you or anybody else ruining it. Where the hell is she?"

Lily, Marlene and Alice shared a carriage with a couple of third year girls, who ignored them. For the entire journey, the group shivered in the unwelcome breeze. Scotland's low temperatures were brutal after a long hot summer in Southern England.

"Will you look at that..." mumbled Marlene after ten minutes of teeth-chattering. "This is the last time we'll experience this, folks. Let's make it count."

Lily stood up and plopped herself on Marlene's lap to get a better view.

"Am I squashing you?" she asked.

"Yes. You're so obese."

"You'll live."

Through the clearing was the magnificent sight of Hogwarts at night: huge and foreboding on the mountain side, but it greeted them with the twinkling of thousands of warm light in the windows, making promises of a hearty feast, joyous reunions and warm beds. It was home, and Lily could not help but smile fondly as they approached it.

"You're in charge of all that," said Marlene.

"Huh?"

"Head Girl. Of Hogwarts. You have authority in _this _place."

Lily grinned. "I suppose I do."

"Who are you going to throw in detention first?"

"Dorcas Meadowes. The longer you have to wait to see her sodding glasses, the more fun I'll have."

"I've always hated you, Evans."

"Likewise, McKinnon."

The carriages came to a halt and the girls spilled out onto the wet grass eagerly. Despite the cold and the damp, Hogwarts beckoned.

"Look at us," tutted Marlene and she grabbed Lily's arm. "Literally buzzing with excitement for _school._ People must think we're mad."

"Mad muggle-borns, Marlene. They don't understand what this place does for us."

Marlene smiled. "Yeah. It's cool, isn't it..."

Lily giggled. "Yes. 'Cool' is exactly the word I'd use to describe the ancient, legendary establishment we've had the opportunity to be educated in."

"Can you shut up with your sarcasm, please? I'm hungry, cold and I want to see Dorcas."

"_Fine._ Let's go."

oOo

Huge, roaring fires thawed out the thick icy bricks of Hogwarts' Great Hall. The Sorting Ceremony had been fair and tearless. Dumbledore's speech had been generic, with eccentric little quips that were only appreciated by a handful of older Gryffindors. The feast... oh, the feast.

James Potter gorged himself on everything, including the mint humbugs, as he did every year. The happy sound of his friends laughing and chatting gave him a pleasing feeling in the pit of his stomach, like coming home after a long day in the cold. In truth, that's what had occurred.

Beside him, Sirius was howling to himself.

"What's so funny?" asked James, bemused at how much Sirius was laughing.

"OI! DORCAS! NICE GOGGLES!"

James glanced over at Dorcas Meadowes, whose huge thick-framed glasses looked utterly ridiculous. Her eyes looked three times the size that they normally were. She blushed as Sirius laughed, but she was not as red in the face as Marlene McKinnon, who glared at Sirius with a look of pure death.

"Marlene fancies you," said James as he speared one of Peter's sausages onto his fork.

"Seriously, what the fuck is Dorcas wearing on her face?" Sirius wiped laughter tears from his pink face. "What has she done to herself?"

"May I have your attention for just another second?" asked Dumbledore, who was back at the golden podium. The babble dissolved into silence for him.

"I must remind prefects to take their House's first years _straight _to their dormitories when the feast has finished. And, as per annum, I must inform you of our choices of Head Boy and Girl of this year..."

"Oi oi, here's your big debut!" hissed Sirius to his friend.

"... I shall do so in a subtle way, in which I will ask for two students to join me in my office after dinner and then _you _shall proceed to speculate as to whether or not they are Head Boy and Girl, which they inevitably are. So, would James Potter and Lily Evans please see me in my office after the feast? Thank you kindly."

Wow. Hell really does freeze over.

James didn't get to hear the cheers, which he'd waited for since his letter, praising him as top choice for Head Boy. His mind and eyes were elsewhere: at the heart-breaking image of the beautiful red-head sitting several seats away. She stared at her hands, too embarrassed to look up. He didn't doubt that she was dreading the course of this year: her dream ruined by him, the boy she'd rather kiss a toad than go out with. After too long, she looked up at him. She was not crying. Her eyes were simply glistening. He forgot to convey anything to her in his face other than shock.

It killed him she, the only girl in the world who truly hated him, was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.

Head Boy and Head Girl: both feeling ridiculous for being paired up as equals with the other, tortured by the prospect of working closely with each other. Love and Hate. Really, what was the difference?

oOo

_A/N: Review, etc, por favor._

_Follow the links on my profile page to my Tumblr. _

_Nelly Bean X_


	5. Into the Fire

September 1977

The feast could not be enjoyed. Not after that.

Lily could feel James' eyes on her relentlessly as she stared numbly at her empty plate.

The look of horror that had crossed his face when he'd heard that she'd be his accomplice in all of his authoritative endeavours for _his _final year... it made her feel cold. She was the cold-hearted, callous, sensible, _boring_ girl who'd ruined his fun (and consequently the fun of the hundreds of students who worshipped him). She could see herself slapping his wrist at every jovial moment: every misdeducted house point and whinging to McGonagall within five minutes of his first Head Boy Dormitory party starting.

Everyone would hate her. _He _would hate her. It was that she cared what he thought of her; the sick feeling in her stomach when she assessed his opinion of her made her conclude that her beloved role of Head Girl would be thwarted by their discomfort around each other. How could Dumbledore do this?

The moment she saw Dumbledore rise from his chair to leave before everyone else, Lily jumped to her feet and clambered out of the bench. She felt James Potter watch her jog from the room, her billowing robes making her the most conspicuous person in the room. It wasn't just him that was watching her: everyone who knew of the feud between James Potter and Severus Snape would be monitoring the attitudes of the crowned Head Boy and Girl for signs of delicious drama.

A cluster of students on the Slytherin table fell very quiet as she passed them. Lily felt sick.

Out in the cold corridor, Lily was able to catch her breath.

The babble of the Great Hall was muffled by thick cold stone. Goosebumps and steaming breath were surprisingly comforting as she made her way through winding empty corridors to Professor Dumbledore's office. She was alive, at least. Low temperature could still ail her.

When she'd climbed the stone spiral staircase to the most magical and wondrous room in the castle, she knocked on the thick wooden door. Her shivering muscle spasms made her knocking sound angry and desperate. She cringed when she heard the headmaster say "Goodness... come in!"

She twisted the latch of the door and shuffled in.

She'd seen Dumbledore's office four times in her life. It was a cluttered exhibition of whirring contraptions and rotting ancient books crammed into towering shelves. There were strange colours and soapy fragrances and aluminium bowls full of sweets. The ceiling was infinite and the bookshelves disappeared upwards into a bewitched sky of puffy white clouds. Lily gazed up at them, astonished.

"Charming, isn't it?"

Lily looked down. Dumbledore was sat in his elaborate throne-like desk chair, his fingers interlocking in a pensive gesture.

"The charm was a gift from my predecessor. I expressed to him a certain distaste for the crude depictions of cherubs painted onto the domed ceiling. He left those clouds there to disguise them. I like them very much. It provides a feeling of peace when I lean my head back, you see."

"Do they rain?" asked Lily.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Like most discipline-deprived child minds, I rarely go outside for fresh air. A few hours of sitting with an umbrella in my hand is a small price to pay for good health. Besides, I enjoy a drizzle shower. It's refreshing."

"And downpours?"

Dumbledore thought about this for a second, then shrugged. "It washes the dust away."

Lily smiled at the kind old man.

"I haven't congratulated you in person yet, Miss Evans," he said as he pulled open his desk drawer. "because one doesn't usually congratulate a girl whose fortunes have saddened her."

Lily swallowed. "Professor, you must know how grateful I am for-"

Dumbledore raised a hand to silence her. He smiled as he shook his head. "I know you've aspired to this for some years, Miss Evans. I wouldn't have placed this responsibility on you if I thought you wouldn't cherish it. But... one has to wonder."

"Wonder what, Sir?"

"Why you seemed ready to cry when I announced your new position to your peers."

He waited, expectantly but with patience, while his Head Girl deliberated. She never became flustered when talking to Dumbledore, even though he was the one teacher who terrified her the most. She knew he had hidden secrets that would prove his humanity, but on the surface that Lily was exposed to, he was like a God: Wise, Caring, Good. Nobody would ever truly understand him.

"Why..?" she began, before trailing off.

Dumbledore cocked his head to the side. "Yes?"

She looked at him, thinking it was right to make eye contact as she asked. He was so _kind._ He was merciful. It dawned on Lily that she possessed none of the qualities that she might've guessed him to want in a Head Girl. At least, she hadn't displayed any. She was in such a flap about James Potter's appointment because she was too rash; too blind; too unkind to accept him.

"Why me?" she asked. It was barely a whisper.

Dumbledore was not an expressive man. That is why Lily knew that his motionless body and shift in his gaze meant that he had no answer. Or at least, he was searching for one.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in, Mr Potter," said Dumbledore, shattering the thick shell of solemnity that had encased them until now.

As the door opened, Lily's heartbeat pounded in her ears, loudly and painfully. Each dull thud of her pulse killed her: Boom, car crash. Boom, killing curse. Boom, broken neck. Boom, gunshot. Boom, her body shatters on the ground.

She turned around and bravely looked at him. His eyes were different. Larger and younger.

"You wanted to see us, Professor?" he asked, shaking out the baggy arms of his robe as he approached the platform on which his desk stood.

"Indeed. Thank you for coming, Mr Potter. Please, join us. We almost started without you."

Potter sauntered up to stand right beside Lily. She felt their dynamics shunt into this very formation.

Dumbledore pressed his hands together on the desk in front of him as he stared wordlessly at the two seventeen-year-olds in front of him. Surveying them? Appraising them.

"Snap," he said.

"...sorry?" asked James.

"Liquorice snap."

Lily glanced sideways at James, who was staring at Dumbledore blankly.

Dumbledore gestured to the small bowl of shiny black objects on the left side edge of the desk. "Help yourselves to some."

As they both stared at the bowl, Dumbledore tapped the side of it. It was as though he'd hit the wall of a tiger enclosure at a zoo. The black sweets had jaws and teeth, which gnashed and gnarled at each other as they wriggled in their container.

"No thanks. I'm fine." said James.

Dumbledore looked to Lily, who politely shook her head and half-managed a smile.

"Quite right, you too. Down to business as soon as we can. A wise decision."

Dumbledore reached in to his desk drawer and pulled out two small objects. Lily grinned.

"These are yours. Do refrain from dropping them in soup. Five Head Boys and two Head Girls have lost their badges in their soup. Only one of them digested theirs."

Lily gulped as she picked hers up. Like James', it was Gryffindor red.

"Thank you, Sir," she said gratefully.

"Yeah, thanks."

"My pleasure. You've earned them."

Lily smiled half-heartedly at his words, and knew that James was doing the same. Rewards. What had they both done to be granted the same honour?

Lily was once again assaulted by the reminder of how sickeningly self-righteous she had become since receiving her Seventh year letter.

"I imagine you already know of your title perks. Your own dormitories, private bathrooms and so forth..."

"Oh yes, Sir..." James grinned. Lily smirked.

"Excellent. And your duties?"

"Hazy knowledge, Sir. They're not really hot topics for common room gossip."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I stand informed, Mr Potter. They're much the same as a prefect's role. Together, you shall patrol the castle after hours and ensure that all students are where they should be. Award and deduct House points as you see fit but by all means to do not feel compelled to award sanctions to the students with greasy hair or disagreeable demeanor."

James coughed.

Lily tried not to roll her eyes.

"If the need should ever arise... the students will be in your hands."

This made Lily feel a little uneasy.

"You're their protectors, as am I, as are the other teachers."

"You trust us with that?" asked James suddenly.

"I appointed you two, didn't I?"

"Yes, but..."

"Then I trust you both with my life."

Unnerving silence clouded the room like fog.

He was Albus Dumbledore. He was completely trustworthy. He kept everybody's secrets. Nobody could ever tell when he was lying or telling the truth.

"Being a Head Girl or a Head Boy at Hogwarts..." he began as he stood up. "...isn't something that a person is born to do. I told you both just now that you'd earned it. I stand by what I said. But hear this..." he walked round the desk and came to stand in front of them. He placed a hand on their shoulders, as though huddling them together to impart a great secret. "You have an obligation now: to me, to the school and most importantly, to yourselves... earn your place in history."

oOo

31st October 1980

_Did we earn it, James? Did we earn our place in history?_

Lily was grateful, now, for her youth's ability to recognise the important moments as they happened. An indescribable sense of infinity would fill Lily up like a cool soft cloud, dizzying her with sweet ecstasy. Dumbledore's words evoked that in her.

Years later from that crucial moment, Lily would not care about her place in history. She would be grateful, however, that he'd spurred her on to live as though there was something far greater than glory to earn in this world.

_Earn your place in history, my darling boy. Happiness was my victory. It was Daddy's victory too. We want that for you. Be happy, Harry. Live._

oOo

September 1977

"I sense that you're buzzing with excitement to start patrols," deadpanned Dumbledore as he opened the office door for them on their way out. "But I'll have to relieve you of your duties for tonight. I think a catch-up with your housemates and a long rest will prepare you well for your late night tomorrow. Good night, you two!"

"Good night," James muttered, just before Dumbledore shut the door on them.

They were in a dark corridor, alone together. They both started to walk briskly.

"So," began James immediately. "When were you going to tell me?"

"As soon as it was any of your business."

"Well, it's very much my business. We're partners now," he smirked.

"Are we? Really? Because you didn't seem very present when I had to direct the prefects on the train _alone _earlier. You could've at least offered me some back-up."

"Huh?"

She sighed. "We were supposed to organise the first years, check the luggage, check the animal carriage and lead the prefects to the prefect carriage."

"Oh..."

"What were you doing? You never came to the prefects' carriage..."

James shrugged. "Remus needed someone to talk to."

Lily took a deep breath. "Okay. Tomorrow, we'll begin anew. Today is finished. We have beds to get to."

They descended the spiral stairs at the bottom of the corridor and found themselves on a moving staircase, which slowly swung to point them to the Gryffindor portrait hole.

"Technically, I did fulfil some of my duties. I showed some first years where to sit. I organised a big kerfuffle on the end carriage."

"Yes, I heard you. From three carriages away."

"...yeah."

"Password?" yawned the Fat Lady as they approached.

Lily grimaced. "I don't know it yet. I left the hall before I got told..."

"Well, then, there's a nice stone step in the north staircase that's only mildly excruciating to sleep on. Good night."

"Someone's got their petticoats in a twist this evening!" Lily accused of the Fat Lady, who flashed a cold smile before rolling her eyes.

"_I _know the password," James grinned.

Lily gave him a bored stare for seven seconds.

"Feather-jet."

"_Thanks._"

The Fat Lady sighed and the portrait swung backwards.

Lily lead the way into the dark passageway, James casting a greater shadow over her in the stairwell light before the portrait shut.

"I never liked her," mused James. "She's so temperamental. Typical renaissance woman."

"Maybe she just needs a change of scenery..." suggested Lily.

They turned the corner into the warm, dimly lit common room. As soon as they entered, the nattering conversations vanished. Dozens of Gryffindors stared at them unabashedly in silence.

Lily and James glanced at one another. James shrugged, then turned back to the common room with a grin plastered on his face.

"YOU'RE ALL IN DETENTION!"

The common room cheered and resumed celebrations. The male population swarmed James to congratulate him. He bounced through the crowd towards the rest of The Marauders, who stood suavely at the back, laughing at him.

"Oi, you!" Marlene McKinnon launched herself off the armchair in the corner and raced over to Lily. She grabbed her arm and dragged past the hoards of rowdy boys to the quiet nook by the bookshelves, where Lily and her friends were prone to sitting and gossiping in.

"How did it go?" asked Marlene, shoving Lily onto the window seat and sitting herself down opposite her.

Lily shrugged. "Fine! He's as eccentric as ever. He offered us some flesh-eating sweets."

Marlene grinned. "What did Dumbledore say to you? Tell me!"

Lily smiled. "He said... 'earn your place in history'".

Marlene closed her eyes with theatrical slowness. "Merlin, his words are like nectar sometimes. I'm telling you: knock off a hundred years from him and I'd be in there."

"You're foul."

"Speaking of which..." she glanced with disdain over to the boys at the other end of the room. James Potter's hoards of admirers were beginning to disperse, leaving him laughing and joking with The Marauders. "... what was _he _like?"

"Potter? fine..."

"I imagine his ego's about to explode any day now."

"Oh, give it a week. I'm not sure he'll be able to stomach spending five evenings a week patrolling corridors with his cruel, loathed Head Girl."

Marlene's eyes widened. "Shit."

"Life is but a dream."

"Ooh!" Marlene scrambled to her feet. "Show me your room!"

"Huh?"

"You get a swanky private suite to yourself, you jammy bitch! SHOW ME IT!"

Lily laughed as her friend started bouncing around her like an excitable puppy. They ran across the room and up the staircase to the top, where the Gryffindor Heads' dorms had been rotting without tenancy for the past three years.

"Ready?" asked Marlene, flashing a cheeky grin behind her to her friend.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Open the door or I'll throw you in detention."

"Fair play."

Her new home reminded her of Rapunzel's tower. It was huge, and round with no ceiling; just the pointed turret of the tower with its rafters. Marlene uttered something about bats, and Lily decided not to dwell on it.

Everything was in excess: the window was as tall as Lily herself, the desk was the size of a library table and her wardrobe was as tall as her colossal four-poster bed.

"All five of us could sleep in that thing!" gasped Marlene, referring to the clique of seventh-year Gryffindors who would've stayed together in their dorm had it not been for Lily's promotion.

"Merlin above, Lily, this room has an _echo._" Marlene ran across the room, and leapt, soaring onto the bed which barely shuddered as she landed on her back onto the mattress. "I am so jealous..."

"It's rather cold in here..." Lily tried.

"Who cares?! It's a palace!"

"Fit for a Queen..." uttered another voice. They both turned to face the door. James Potter stood leaning against the doorway looking smarmy as ever.

"Who let _you _in?" asked Marlene, disgusted.

"Get your eyes tested, McKinnon. I'm not actually in the room."

"Let's keep it that way."

James raised his eyebrows and looked away from her, at Lily. "Like it?" he asked.

Lily glanced round at her new room again. "It's a bit big," she said stupidly.

James chuckled. "Mine too."

"What's yours like?" Lily asked him.

"Much the same as yours," James sighed. "Only, mine has a chandelier and a champagne fountain."

Marlene rolled her eyes. "Hilarious."

"No, really, it does! Evans, care to see for yourself?"

Lily smirked. "You must be out of your mind if you think I'm going anywhere near your bedroom, Potter."

"I thought the Queen of Hogwarts might be curious as to what her King's bed chamber looks like..."

Lily grimaced. "That's extremely big-headed of you."

"What is?"

Lily grimaced. "Calling us King and Queen."

James grinned. "The painful chat-up line comes from Sirius. He's the one who pointed out the correlation between Headship and Monarchy."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "Really? If that's a chat-up line, I'd love to see what you come up with for wedding vows."

"I expect you will, some day. Sure you don't want to see?"

"Positive, thanks."

James shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Nobody said anything after that.

"Well?" asked Marlene to James. "Can we help you with something?"

James shook his head. "Nah. I was just curious as to what Evans' room looked like. I'll be off now."

"Oh good. Shut the door on your way out."

James shrugged again and turned to leave. Lily glanced to Marlene, who slumped against the bed.

"You'd better watch out for that one," warned Marlene. "He's tricky."

"He's vile," sighed Lily, shutting the door once James Potter was safely descending the stairs.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that..." said Marlene in an odd voice. "He's an arrogant bastard, yes, but not vile. _Definitely _not vile..."

James found his friends in their dormitory. The lump in the bed in the corner was the sleeping Frank Longbottom, whom Sirius was delicately drawing a moustache onto. Peter sat on his own bed, turning bright red from stifling laughter. Remus greeted James with an amused smirk.

"How's her majesty?" he asked, closing the book that was in his lap.

James sighed as he flung himself onto his old bed. His new room was fucking fantastic, but he'd miss the company of his comrades and the worn comfort of his old bed.

"Frigid." he smirked, removing his wand from his pocket. He aimed it at the crate underneath Sirius' bed. "_Accio Butterbeer."_

The crate whooshed out from under the bed and a bottle rose up from within it. It bobbed through the air until it was in James' waiting hand.

"Frigid for _you_," said Remus. "Which must hurt..."

James chuckled and pretended to be distracted by Sirius' antics on Frank Longbottom. He was good at feigning nonchalance.

"Prongs," said Remus. "Don't act like you don't care."

James rolled his eyes. "I don't."

"Careful, Moony." said Sirius with a smirk. "Lily is like kryptonite to James. His ego is very fragile these days. We mustn't rub salt into his wounds."

"Fuck you all."

"Besides," continued Sirius. "Prongs doesn't need Evans anymore. He's got Alana."

Peter let out a quiet giggle. "No he doesn't! Alana said _hello._"

"Well I'm closer to her bed than _you'll _ever be, Wormtail!" James snapped. Sirius cackled.

"Calm down!" squeaked Peter, smiling. "I was just joshing!"

"Evans is old news, boys." said James, taking a sip of his butterbeer and reclining. "I've got my sights set somewhere higher."

Remus chuckled in that irritating old man way. "You think Alana Peck is a better class of girlfriend than Lily Evans?" he questioned.

"Yeah," James said, as though it was obvious.

Peter giggled again. James clenched his jaw.

"There is _no-one _higher up than Lily Evans..." Peter sneered.

"Bollocks!" James scoffed. "Alana Peck: bigger tits than Evans, more fun than Evans, more adventurous than Evans, more willing to put out than Evans!"

"Ah, so it's an easy shag you're after..." Remus rolled his eyes. "You know, your relationship values are warped. No wonder Lily Evans has rejected you... what, six times?"

"Lily is prettier than Alana," mused Peter, smiling in a day-dreaming way. "And she's cleverer. And she can be very funny sometimes."

"Well then..." growled James, standing up. "Why don't _you two_ ask Evans out then, seeing as she's so fucking perfect..."

There was a round of "ooh" as James stormed out, trying not to slam the door behind him.

He took a deep breath before walking back to the Heads' dorms, butterbeer in hand. Fuck them. Fuck Evans. Fuck everyone.

He crossed the landing, only to find Marlene McKinnon tiptoeing out of the Head Girl's room, closing the door cautiously behind her.

She turned round and spotted James immediately.

"Evans sleeping?" queried James.

"Yes," replied Marlene wearily, before looking at him seriously. She took several steps towards him. "I'm warning you now, Potter..."

"Oh, save it." he said quickly. "_Don't hurt Lily. _I get it."

Marlene ignored him. "If I hear that she's had to put up with any of your shit during rounds, I'll cut off your balls and feed them to the mandrake roots. Got that?"

"Sorry, McKinnon, I didn't realise you'd _adopted_ Evans."

"I'm her fucking friend, Potter. I'm protecting her. That's what good friends do."

"Oh please, Evans has got more balls than Peter fucking Pettigrew. She can handle herself. And don't lecture me on the values of friendship; you don't know _what _I do for my friends."

Marlene scowled at him. "Go to bed. And _don't_ wake her up."

"I wouldn't dare!" spat James, pushing past her. He stomped into his room and slammed the door. He couldn't care less about what Marlene had just said.

He gulped down more of his butterbeer and placed in on the bedside table. Angrily, he ripped off his tie, kicked off his shoes and shoved his trousers off his body.

He sat down on the bed and took another deep breath.

He glanced at the wall opposite his bed: the partition between his room and Lily's. She was sleeping in there. He wondered whether her hatred for him was so far gone that she didn't even forget him in her sleep. Maybe, sleep was the state in which she didn't hate him at all.

He got up and walked over to the wall. A huge tapestry covered the stone wall, portraying a bloodbath of a battle. James looked past it.

"Evans?" he called quietly. She did not reply.

_Get over yourself._

James huffed and backed away from the wall towards his bed. He shrugged out of his jumper and shirt and slid into bed, his exhaustion suddenly taking him by surprise.

He stared up at the ceiling of his bed. Darkness trapped him in a cage with his own thoughts.

Lily Evans is next door.

And she fucking hates you.

Good. She's an uptight prissy bitch.

_You have feelings for her. Don't fucking deny it. _

In a way, he hated her. He hated Lily Evans for not giving him a reason to dislike her. Everything she did: every good deed he heard of her doing, every pretty smile... it infuriated him. He prayed that she'd drown a kitten or stab a first year or _something. Anything _to throw him off.

James believed he still had licence to kid himself that Severus Snape was the cause of all his problems. Severus fucking Snape. How could a girl of Lily Evans' calibre ever be so bloody smitten with someone as greasy, ill-mannered, slimy and miserable as Snivellus? It made _no _sense. It had to be dark magic. Or Snape was a dab hand at manipulation.

The only thing James Potter couldn't convince himself of was the notion that if Lily Evans had not opened her annoyingly generous heart to Snivellus Snape, then James might've had a chance with her.

With that thought in mind, he recalled the conversation they'd had at The Leaky Cauldron.

_"You can't expect me to believe that you hate me because of my lack of moral fibre. You might be all innocent and cute, but you're not a saint." _

Saint Lily.

It had been another stupid moment in which James had tried to lie to himself; to spare himself. _Evans is not as perfect as you think she is, Potter. _Right.

_"Don't make assumptions about me, Potter. How would you know how innocent I am?"_

That angered him.

He sat up in bed and stared at the wall.

_Come on. _He thought to himself. _You hate her. She's a bitch to you. She's a bitch to your friends. Alana wants you. You want Alana. She's fit._

He pictured Alana Peck standing at the foot of his bed, dancing in that sultry way she had done at his 17th birthday party in the common room...

_She is fucking fit._

Then pictured Lily Evans in the common room, staring into the fire, her face aglow from the amber flames. She was thinking about something very serious...

_No. You hate her. You only think about her so much because she infuriates you._

James threw himself back onto the bed and angrily rolled over.

If there was a God, putting James this close to Lily for a year without any excuse to protect her was a particularly cruel method of torture.

_A/N: Review it. Now._

_Yours Snivellusly,_

_Nelly Bean X_

_P.S: Link to my tumblr is on my profile!_


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